


Sometimes The Last Thing You Want Comes In First

by Krasimer



Series: Do Not Go Gentle [12]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Altered Mental States, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Doc Scratch and others unknown are dicks, F/F, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Memory Alteration, Void Possessed Damara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 17:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name, back when you actually remembered it, was DAMARA MEGIDO.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes The Last Thing You Want Comes In First

Your name, back when you actually remembered it, was DAMARA MEGIDO.

Now, the knowledge of who you were is only so much excess data, trimmed away in the rush of 'New Purpose' that had come to you when you died. If you remembered, you would be so angry with the man pulling at the strings connected to you. In the wake of being erased, you are only made for one thing, mind altered to only want to fall in line with the want of your new masters.

If you remembered...

Things would be so different if you remembered.

For example, the man guiding your actions as you turn your wands on your friends would be down on the ground as you forwent using them correctly and simply stabbed him in the neck with them. If you were free to remember and use your body as you wanted, you would call to Rufioh and Horuss for help, ask your auspistice quadrant to back you up in the battle as they had done so many times before.

Hell, maybe even your potential Kismesis would have helped.

Instead, Kurloz charges, clubs drawn and swinging as he makes a deep honking noise that once-upon-a-time would have actually frightened you. Instead, again, of anything resembling friendship or even hatred, you attack like a mindless soldier given orders. 

Somewhere in your mind is a shriek of agony as Meenah dodges an attack from your other wand, her braids flying through the air a second behind her. 

There's a voice in the back of your mind.

It tells you to stand down, for the love of all that exists and is good, stand the fuck down before you hurt her _YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HER WHAT ARE YOU DOING LET GO OF YOUR WANDS._

You ignore it.

There's a flash of red as your companion steps forward and drags the blue woman off of the ground by her hair. Her claws come out when blue eyes flutter open and she presses them to the injured Goddess's soft exposed throat. Blood wells up in the spots her claws dig in, and the orange eyed one yanks the blue eyed one's head backwards until there's a gentle cracking noise from her neck.

Her body stills except for breathing, and the one pulling the strings attached to the two of you steps forward as well. 

You keep attacking. It is their business, you do not have a part in it. You must finish your extermination of the rest of the ghosts. They Do Not Have A Place Here, Not Anymore, And They Never Actually Did. There is no notion of pride at having remembered your master's words. There is no thought of anything but destroying what you have come to destroy.

"You..." the broken one's voice sounds from behind you, and something new tugs on your shoulder. "You will never succeed, Grandfather."

You turn around.

The tugging continues, and you glance at your shoulder. You let your hands fall to your sides, wands dangling uselessly from them, as the voice in the back of your mind grows louder. Your master steps forward, his eyes narrowed in an expression that you have long since identified as angry. 

"You do not get to be the one to decide that, Tempest." he snarls, directing the other to turn her so that he can strike her face. When he finishes, there is blood dripping from her nose and pooling out of her mouth. The minions of flame and shadow rise up again as he turns from her and sneers. "Kill her." he orders, the words slipping out almost as an afterthought.

The orange haired one raised her other hand, pulls a dangerous looking broadsword from nowhere, and then pulls back to shove it through her matesprit's chest.

You pause, head tilting to the side.

"Handmaid," he addresses you, anger directed at you now. "Why are you not following orders?"

Blinking slowly at him, you turn on your heel, the tugging on your shoulder sliding deeper and in to your chest. The pull of something familiar, the draw of something that you have always been connected to in a deep, unshakable way.

Derse calls you home.

When it comes down to it, there is nothing you can do but answer your moon's call.

You turn again, ignoring his shouts, and plunge the tip of your wand into your companion's shoulder. She howls again, her head falling back in a harsh mimic of what she did to her matesprit, and then she drops to the ground and lets go of her sword. Her arms catch her before she collapses, and her eyes go soft. When one of her hands comes up to stroke the other's cheek, you know that you can leave them alone for a minute.

" _ **HANDMAID!**_ " he snarls, arms outstretched, ready to attack. His voice is echoing, and his attempt to control you even more would make you laugh if you remembered how.

Instead, with the one wand you have left, you lash out at him.

The attack leaves a deep score down his cheek, some of the Void that forms him leaking out. 

(He had taken you aside before the battle began, had whispered things to you that weren't supposed to be in your head.

 _'You are nothing but a whore,'_ he hissed, claws digging into your chin. 

_'No one will ever understand you, and you will never be anything but betrayed by those you would call friends.'_ )

" **HEY!** " Someone calls out, voice angry but steady. You know that voice.

The numbness that has gripped you for sweeps loosens it's hold, lets you go just long enough for you to sob at the sound of Meenah's voice. She stands behind him, her trident held in a way that implies she's going to kill him with it. When she was alive, when she was younger, she would pretend to impale invisible enemies on it for your amusement. She would talk about how she would employ you in her Empire, would have you at her side forever.

When you got older, the implications of what she was saying became different.

As the both of you aged, she started placing flowers in your hair, hands awkwardly held in yours. The both of you would smile when she flubbed up something sweet that she was trying to say. 

This time, there are no words of devotion, no declarations of affection.

There is only Meenah, you, and the one who has managed to stand in between for thousands of sweeps.

"You, fucker, are not going to survive tonight." her voice is little more than a growl, not a single fish pun to be heard. Instead of throwing her trident, she lunges with it, the metal almost becoming an extension of her body. Behind her, Horuss fights at her back, keeps her safe from whatever might be attacking.

His attention is entirely focused on her now, the strings he has on you coming loose. 

It's too late for him when he realizes this. Her weapon is buried in his chest.

Yours is half an inch from puncturing his eye.

The perfectly round white orbs stare up at you, a displeased expression on his face as his hand latches onto your wrist. "You would not dare, you whore." he hisses, smoke flowing from his mouth with each breath and word. "You would dare lay a hand on me?"

With all the strength your body possesses, you lean forward and press your wand closer to his eye.

"Yes." is the only word that escapes you as your wand pierces his eye and you throw as much power through it as you can. His body collapses, goes still as it hits the ground and the screaming starts. You collapse next to him, barely even touching the ground before Meenah is holding you.

"Damara!" she sobs, claws digging into your shoulders.

You reach up and pat her cheek.

You think it is reassuring, but from her reaction it must be the opposite. There are tyrian tears running down her face for the first time since she was a wiggler. Her hands are as cold as they ever were, but the feel so much hotter than your skin right now.

With gasping breaths, you manage to bring both of your hands up to your chest, forming a heart with them. "Flushed for you." 

Meenah shakes. Her entire body is quaking, her hands desperately linking with yours as she repeats it, wipes fruitlessly at her cheek with the sleeve of her shirt. "No, Damara, you can't-" she whimpers, and your only thought is that you have never seen her looking this helpless before, not even when she was little.

Another set of hands connects with your temples and then it all goes black.

 

~

 

Your name is DAMARA MEGIDO, and now you have your memories back.

The forest around Kankri's hive is slightly scorched, but there is enough of it left that it will survive. Sitting around you in a half-assed cluster is the entire rest of the group that you once played a game with.  


Well, them and two goddesses.

"Fuck, don't ever scare me like that again." Meenah has her head buried in your hair, which fell out of the neat bun that you had it in. The wands you were forced to use are gone, broken into nothing but dust and particles. 

You grin back at her, jiggle your shoulder until her eyes appear. She looks slightly annoyed, but that is better than heartbroken. "I'm sorry."

Instead of the jumbled mess that was left in place of your slight accent when a Void powered Horrorterror possessed you, you sound like yourself again. She laughs at that, pulls you back to her chest and settles her hands around your waist. You're sitting in between her spread legs, your red dress back to how it was before you died. It isn't all that different from what it was changed to, but the difference is enough to make you and everyone else uncomfortable.

"Seriously, if you do that again, I am going to shove your own-" Meenah breaks off, swallows visibly, then makes a noise that sounds like a mixture of laughter and sobbing. Your wands, the ones that she gave you, are tucked safely into your belt. 

Before she can say anything, you shoosh her, twisting around until your lips are on hers.

When you pull back, she looks so vulnerable that all you want to do is hide her away from the rest of everything, make it just the two of you. It takes her a moment, but she pulls you back, presses her lips to yours like it's all she needs to be happy. 

Someone whistles, long and loud.

(You think it might be Cronus.)

You flip them off behind your back, tilt her down until she is flat and you can rest your weight on top of her. 

Right now, nothing else matters besides her.

And that is a memory you will happily take back.

**Author's Note:**

> So... Tell me what you think?
> 
> This is not quite the end. There will be something like one more chapter after this, I think. There might be more.
> 
> ...Anyways. The songs lyrics used for the titles of each section, are, in order from this one backwards:  
> Damara: "Strange And Beautiful" Aqualung  
> Aranea: "Fall To Pieces" Avril Lavigne  
> Rufioh: "A Thousand Years" Christina Perry  
> Horuss: "Brass Bed" Josh Gracin  
> Meenah: "Sun Goes Down" David Jordan  
> Kankri: "Stars" Dead Hearts  
> Meulin: "Don't Give Up" Noisettes  
> Latula: "Room Of An Angel" Akira Yamaoka  
> Kurloz: "Uprising" Muse  
> Cronus: "Turn Off The Lights" Panic! At The Disco  
> Mituna: "Iris" Goo Goo Dolls  
> Porrim: "Lilja's Lament" Indica


End file.
